


AVENGERS CHATROOM DRABBLES

by couldbecourfeyrac



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, F/M, a little fluff here and there tho, but they might be nice drabbles to read, lotta angst :), most of you probs wont understand the context, this is all based off things from the rp group so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-09 14:11:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15269175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couldbecourfeyrac/pseuds/couldbecourfeyrac
Summary: little things that happened to and between my characters in the rp that i didn't type out on the chat but probably referenced at some point.





	1. buckynat chat the morning after bucky's first major flashback

Natasha watched Bucky from her seat on the armchair on the other side of the panic room, nonchalantly sipping her tea as she waited for him to say something, anything. It had been almost a full day since the flashback, and he still hadn’t said a damn word. Not to Anna, not to her. He just sat there, occasionally going on his phone but mainly staring at the wall, deep in thought. He got up every once and awhile to go to the bathroom or get food, and he’d reply nonverbally to any questions, but other than that he just sat there, staring at that goddamn wall like it was the only thing keeping him sane.

She hated it, to put it one way.

Not because Bucky was ignoring her-she knew that sometimes you just needed to block everyone out, to focus in and think about whether or not you wanted to keep fighting, whether or not you wanted to _live,_ though she had hoped that after his Coney Island sabbatical he wouldn’t need to think about it for a little while.

Natasha hated it because it made her feel helpless.

She couldn’t help him like this, when he was trapped inside his own mind, silent and unmoving. All she could do was sit there, refuse to let him be alone, and that wasn’t enough. At least it wasn’t for her. It might’ve been enough for him, might’ve been just what he needed, but she couldn’t tell because he wouldn’t fucking speak. Or couldn’t. She didn’t know.

God, she was going to kill him if he made it through this.

If.

That’s how bad it was, then.

She loved him more than anything, believed in him like no one else, and even she didn’t know if he would make it through this.

Natasha Romanoff knew fear. She knew terror inside and out, knew it in all its forms, knew how to hide it, push it away, banish it from sight. And fear was what she was feeling, brutal and overwhelming, threatening to overcome her defenses and break her down.

She’d be willing to bet millions that that was what Bucky was feeling, too.

And she’d be dead on.

\----------

The mind of Bucky Barnes was a terrifying place, filled with memories laid like landmines, just waiting for you to misstep and get caught in one, trapped until you could anchor yourself and fight your way out of a hell of your own making, perfectly suited to destroying you from the inside out.

It was also beautiful, though, sharp and funny, filled to the brim with wit and positivity and laughter.

Recently, however, the beauty of it had been unwillingly to show itself, an the terror had grown and grown, until, slowly but surely, it began to overwhelm Bucky.

There was no surer way to destroy a man like James Buchanan Barnes than to pit him against himself, let his memories battle it out, and see which side won, the dark or the light. The only possible solution, of course, would be to strike a bargain between the two, to master the middle ground, the shades of grey, but Bucky hadn’t quite yet gained the ability.

So he was in the middle of a civil war, waged entirely inside his mind, unseen by everyone but himself, hidden from everyone who he wanted to see it, everyone who he thought mattered, in the end.

He did not think of himself as one of those who mattered.

Seeing the Red Room again had been what brought this about, the shock of returning there allowing memories to resurface and catch him off-guard, unready to fight for his mind when he was too busy fighting off _children,_ actual children of the kind Natasha had once been, full of fire and ready to die, to meet their end in battle, without ever having been given the freedom to think about what they were dying for, or even if they were dying for anything other than a hollow ideal held by adults who’s reason had been corrupted through the years.

This was a battle he had fought millions of times before, a larger version of the struggle held in his mind every time his heart wanted to so much as beat. He didn’t want to do this. He was fine with life as it had been before, when he confronted the pain just enough to stave off collapse but didn’t deal with the whole issue, knowing what could happen if he did. But apparently what he wanted didn’t matter anymore, and either he did this, he thought this through and tried to save himself, or he simply sat by and watched himself snap and break everything and possibly everyone around him.

God, he really, really wanted to just let it happen.

\----------

Fifteen minutes after Natasha sat down with her tea, Bucky finally looked up at her, tired and dazed but much more in control of himself than he had been last night when he convinced himself he was back in the Room.

When he spoke, the words were halting and slow and painful to say, but they were said nonetheless.

“You can only fuck with someone’s mind so many times before you break something, y’know. I…guess I finally broke.”

There was a bitter kind of victory in Bucky’s voice, and it was just the push needed to make Natasha set her fear aside and let the anger show.

She set down her drink and stood from her chair, walking over to Bucky, taking his hand, and pulling him to his feet.

“You listen to me, James Buchanan Barnes,” Natasha said quietly, looking him dead in the eye, “and you listen good. You’re not giving up. Not here, not now, not ever. Not while I’m alive. You don’t get to do that. And I know it hurts, and I know you’ve been running for as long as you can remember, and I know you don’t think you have the energy to stop, turn around, and face your damn problems. But you do. It may not feel like it, but you do.”

Bucky shook his head weakly, unable to believe her at this point. “I’ve spent over seventy years dealing with this shit, Talia. I can’t-I can’t do this anymore. Not after going there again. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

She frowned, knowing from personal experience how hard it was to stop thinking like that, and there was a short pause as she tried to work out how to say what she needed to say and what he needed to hear. She didn’t let go of his hand-it was the metal one, she vaguely noticed, too busy thinking to properly observe anything-holding onto him tightly as she began to speak again.

“The Room is fire. The Room is searing pain that never goes away. None of it ends. Ever. The memories, the blood, the kills, they will haunt you for the rest of your life if you let them. They will even if you don’t, probably. It’s not making them go away. You could never do that, because they’re a part of you now, for better or worse, whether you like it or not. The only thing you can do is learn to bear the pain, and refuse to let it consume you. Wipe the red from your ledger however you can. Unload what they did to you in every punch, every enemy you take down, or every person you save and every smile you cause. But the two things you don’t do are expect it to end and give up. It’s not a fun way to live, it sure as hell isn’t healthy, but it’s a damned good way not to die.” Natasha stops for a moment, as if remembering something, an old conversation perhaps, and then continues, her voice softer now, less angry. “And it lets you enjoy life a little more. Gives you a break. Because we’re both going to be alive for way too long, Barnes, too long for anyone, especially us, and we might as well do something with it, and be able to enjoy it, too. And if we can’t…If we can’t, we won’t make it to the end of the month.”

Bucky listened to her, he really did, but he wasn’t quite convinced. “I’m just…I want it to stop. But I can’t make it. I don’t have the strength for that, Natalia, I really don’t.”

Natasha nodded. “If you don’t have the strength, then I’ll lend you mine. You have to options, James. You can lay down and lose yourself completely, never be you again, trapped in hell and hurting people once more, or you can live your life, raise Anna, marry me. I’ll be with you every step of the way if you choose to live. I won’t let you be alone again, I will help you, and you’ll help me too, if only by just being there. We’ll work things out, if you choose to live. But that’s a choice you have to make for yourself, love. So which is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, considering his answer, and then said, “I want to live. ‘Course I do, always have. Well, not always. Not sure if I can, but I’ll try.”

She gave him a small smile, slightly less worried now. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

“One last thing, before I start trying this.”

“What is it?”

“I need to break a promise I made to you. Just once, then never again. You alright with that?”

Now it was Natasha’s turn to hesitate. “I…yes, I suppose, if you must.”

Bucky’s voice was quiet and small as he said, “They made me a monster, Talia. You know what that’s like. I’m scared that I won’t be able to be anything other than what they made me. Not sure if I can remember how to be anything else.”

She didn’t need to speak for him to know that she thought that was bullshit and that who he was depended on who he decided to be, instead just pulling him into a tight hug, letting him break down and never letting go.

And, in the end, that made all the difference, for better or worse, whether she liked it or not.


	2. bucky's conversation with becca

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, hesitating for a moment before he stepped into the neat, bare room, standing by the doorway for a moment longer before he smiled at the figure sitting up on the basic white hospital bed, doing his best to keep the nervousness out of his expression as he had every time he had visited so far. “Hey, Becca,” he said softly, walking over to sit on the chair next to the bed. “Remember me?”

Rebecca Barnes frowned slightly for a moment, and then smiled brilliantly at the man she knew as a visitor, but not a brother anymore. “Yes, of course I do. You’re Jimmy, you visit sometimes.” His smile dimmed slightly, but, well, at least she remembered he had visited before this time. Usually she didn’t. And it hurt, it really did, but he would never stop visiting. She was his sister, he couldn’t abandon her.

“That’s great, Becca. How’ve you been?” She smiled vaguely, and said, “Good, good, everything’s been normal.” Rebecca’s smile flickered a little, and that was when Bucky realized exactly how this conversation would go, and her next words only confirmed that fear.

“You know, you look just like my brother.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t show any outside reaction, but inwardly? Inwardly he was on the verge of tears, just as he had been every other time she had said that. Because they had had this talk before. He had heard her grieve his death over and over again, without her ever understanding that he was alive and he was there and he just wanted his little sister to remember him again.

Of course, maybe it was better that she didn’t remember. If she had, she might’ve channeled her inner Elizabeth and given him the worst scolding he had ever gotten, and then he definitely wouldn’t have been able to hold back tears.

“He was so nice, so funny,” Becca said, fixating on some random point in space and laughing a little. “You would’ve loved him, everyone did. He as so charming…then he joined the army. He was drafted. He didn’t tell us that, course he didn’t. But Eliza knew, she always did. How could a man like that go from saying he didn’t want to join to enlisting the next day? She was sad, we both were. Henry took it worse, though. ‘Specially after Bucky died. They put him on some valor wall, I think. The first name on it.”

Bucky clenched his right hand for a moment, digging his nails into his hand to stop himself from crying as he waited for Becca to keep talking, but she didn’t. Her eyes glazed over for a second, and then she frowned a little again. “What were we talking about?” “Nothing important,” he said quickly, smiling again. “You were just talking about your day.” Becca nodded. “Alright. Yes, alright.”

He glanced at the clock on the wall, slightly surprised by how quickly the time had gone by. She followed his gaze, cocking her head to the side a little bit. “You should be going, shouldn’t you?” she said. “You seem like a busy person.” Bucky nodded. “I guess so, yeah. I’ll see you next month, Becca.” “Of course. Bye, Jimmy.” “Bye.”

Bucky stood up and walked out of the room, the smile slipping off of his face the minute he got into the hallway. Natasha was right when she said that he shouldn’t have gone; this was only going to make things worse for him. But he couldn’t bring himself to disappoint Becca by not showing up then, and he still wouldn’t be able to decide not to go if he had been told exactly what would happen. Meeting with her wasn’t just his job as her brother: it was actually enjoyable, at least on the days when she was herself, even though she didn’t recognize him.

He forced a smile back on his face when a nurse walked by, refusing to let himself break down in front of a stranger. He ran a hand through his hair again, taking a moment to calm himself down before he walked down the hallway and out of the nursing home.

Jamie was waiting in the car for him, and she frowned a little as Bucky opened the car door and sat down on the passenger seat. “You alright, Buck?” she asked softly, tucking a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear before starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

“Always, J. Let’s get out of here.”


	3. bucky's thought process after mind controlled!tony's attack

Bucky’s first thought when he slowly regained consciousness was that the agent should have finished the job.

He didn’t quite yet realize that his attacker had been Tony, his friend, or at least his ally. He had been recovering from a panic attack when Tony had burst into the room, and he wasn’t quite out of the memory that had been haunting him when the fight happened.

So, yes, he thought the agent should have snapped his neck, strangled him, beat him until he broke-anything to just make it stop.

And when he reviewed the memory and learned that the agent was actually Tony?

Didn’t change his thoughts at all.

Tony might have gone through the facts, realized just how dangerous Bucky was, and decided to do what needed to be done, to eliminate the threat.

To do what Natasha should have done years ago.

“No,” Bucky muttered, stopping himself from continuing that line of speculation and slowly standing up. “He wouldn’t do that.” That was true, too. Tony was not the kind of man who would reach that conclusion, who would kill his friend on the off chance that someone else would get hurt.

Which meant that whoever that was wasn’t Tony, or he was Tony under someone else’s control.

Before he could try to work out who or what might have done the deed, Bucky was struck by another thought.

“ _Natalia.”_

He raced out of the room and down the stairs, now certain of at least one thing, and that this was this:

If anyone, _anyone,_ had hurt so much as a hair on Nat’s head, Bucky was going to hunt them down and make their life the worst hell imaginable.


	4. buckynat wedding

"Let's do it. Tonight. C'mon, Nat."  
"Neither of us are exactly the most sane right now, James."  
"Are we ever?"  
"...touché. Alright. I'll pick up the papers."  
"I'll arrange everything else. Think we can have this set up by...six, maybe?"  
"Definitely."  
"Perfect."  
\-----  
Around seven, Bucky and Natasha arrived back at their house, only to leave again a few minutes later, bringing Anna with them. They piled into the car, Bucky driving while Nat turned around in the front seat to explain to Anna what, exactly, was going on.  
"We're going to go have breakfast for dinner," Nat said, smiling slightly, "and then we're going to get the biggest cake we can find and eat as much of it as we can."  
Anna nodded, grinning, even though she was still a little confused. "But why?" This made Natasha grin back, and she held up her left hand, showing Anna the new wedding band. The redhead's eyes widened, and she said excitedly, "You guys finally got married?"  
Bucky laughed as he drove, even happier than Anna was. "Dang right we did." "So...we're getting celebration pancakes and cake?" Anna asked, bouncing excitedly on her seat. "Pretty much," Nat confirmed, and with that they arrived at the restaurant.  
\-----  
"Bet you I can eat more pancakes than you, Dad."  
"Oh, you're on."  
"...well, this'll be fun."  
\-----  
Natasha watched with a mixture of amusement and horror as Anna and Bucky competed to see who could eat the most pancakes, Bucky unsurprisingly eventually winning.   
"I'm never eating that many pancakes again," Anna said, clutching her stomach dramatically. "I second that," Bucky said, but Nat just laughed at them. "Mhm. Sure you won't," she said, and they all knew that they would eat more pancakes than that eventually, likely soon.  
"Can we get cake now?" Anna asked, tugging a little at Nat's sleeve. "What happened to being full?" Nat teased, already signing the check that had been placed on the table. "Oh, there's always more room for cake," Bucky said, and Anna nodded in agreement.   
"Let's go, then," Nat said, rising from her seat. Before she could make another move, Bucky and Anna had stood and sprinted to the car, clearly wanting to get going as quickly as possible. With a small chuckle, Natasha pushed in her chair, and followed them.  
\-----  
"Give us the biggest cake you have."  
"Why do I feel like we're going to regret this order?"  
"Probably because we are."  
\-----  
The Romanoff-Barnes family stared at the gigantic cake in front of them, none of them quite willing to admit that they were all concerned about how the hell they were going to eat all of this. Anna was the one to finally break the silence. "Well, we can always give the leftovers to Uncle Clint."  
Bucky laughed, and said, "I'm sure he'd love it." "He definitely would," Nat chimed in, before cutting herself a piece of the cake and taking a quick bite. "Oh my god, this is amazing."  
Anna and Bucky immediately got slices of their own, and it was soon obvious that, holy shit, the cake was ridiculously good. "This is the best wedding cake I could've asked for," Bucky said, already getting another slice. Both Nat and Anna nodded in agreement, and there was a comfortable silence for a little while as they ate.  
"So, where are you going for your honeymoon?" Anna asked, pushing her bangs out of her face as she spoke. Nat glanced at Bucky, and he shrugged. "Haven't really thought about it," he said. "We might not have one."   
Anna's jaw dropped, and she looked rather scandalized. "But you have to!" she said, putting down her fork. "It's a honeymoon! That's pretty much a basic wedding thing, right?"   
Nat laughed a little, and then said, "It is, but we don't have to. It would be nice, but we're both fairly busy. And we can't just leave you here." "I can stay with Aunt Maria, or Aunt Sharon," Anna replied immediately. "Or even with Uncle Clint. You guys deserve a break, some time to yourselves."  
Bucky nodded a little, and looked to Nat. "Well, I guess we could talk to them, consider it," he said. "But I can't promise that we'll go anywhere." Anna seemed fairly satisifed with this answer, and picked up her fork again. "I think you should go."  
The trio continued eating their cake, talking and laughing for awhile longer, just enjoying spending time together and relaxing as a family. Eventually, they left the shop, Nat carrying the box of cake and Bucky carrying Anna, who was starting to fall asleep in his arms.  
When they got home, they tucked Anna into bed, before heading to bed themselves. (Or, at least, heading to their bedroom. They didn't get much sleep that night, take that in what sense you will.)


End file.
